Meant to Live
by ardj18
Summary: All about the Pevensies, and how they feel during PC. its better than the summary, i promise! movieverse. This is a songfic to "meant to live" by Switchfoot. I heard it and thought it was absolutely perfect for CoN! please review! one-shot


**A/N:** Okay, so I heard this song the other day, and thought up two great videos, one for Harry Potter, and one (this one!) for Chronicles of Narnia. I am terrible at making movies, so I decided I would try to capture the basic idea in a songfic. i think I succeeded, though this is a bit different than what I originally had in mind. I tried my best to give it a somewhat happy ending, but it is another of those sad angsty fics I love to write for CoN. the scenes are all from the movies, and they skip around a bit, but I think you can probably figure it out. I thought this song was perfect, and I hope you do too! please review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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**Fumbling his confidence  
And wondering why the world has passed him by**

Peter sat in Aslan's How, staring blankly ahead of him at the magnificent carving of Aslan. As he looked at the great lion, he felt his confidence shatter. Were they doing the right thing? Peter sighed. He didn't even know what "right" was anymore.

Everything had been so much easier in Narnia during the times of Old.

**  
Hoping that he's bent for more than arguments,  
And failed attempts to fly.  
Fly.**

The argument with Caspian was still fresh in Peter's mind. Well, if you could call in an "argument," as swords had been drawn and insults thrown. He was still angry with Caspian, but he was more angry with himself. They were supposed to be helping Caspian, not fighting him.

**We were meant to live for so much more**

Peter could remember his coronation easily. It was one of the best – and worst – memories he had of Old Narnia. Standing in front of the crowd of Narnians, as the crown was placed on his head and his title announced by Aslan, the great lion himself.

**  
have we lost ourselves?**

Back in England, Peter had had so much trouble living like a king. Everyone treated him like an ignorant little boy. He! Who had led an army against the White Witch, who had ruled a kingdom, with help, of course. Peter tried to help people, be kind and polite, but it just led to trouble. So he started fights. Soon, he had lost his kingly nature, except while he was around his siblings, or defending them.

**  
Somewhere we live inside  
Somewhere we live inside**

As Peter stared at the image of Aslan, he felt something stir in his heart. It was a purpose, and with it came courage. He would win this fight, and he would win this battle. For Aslan, and for Narnia.

**  
We were meant to live for so much more**

In the forest outside the How, Susan was also reflecting on her coronation. She remembered the joy she had felt as Mr. Tumnus placed the crown on her head. But she also remembered the responsibility she had felt. The more she thought about it, the more she remembered the joy – joy that she would stay in Narnia, the land that she had come to love, forever. To rule alongside her siblings. As the cool metal of the crown touched her head, she felt unrestrained joy.

**  
Have we lost ourselves?**

Susan touched the rough bark of the tree she stood in front of, feeling, for the first time since coming home, the life of the tree, buried deep within. She had become like this in England, burying herself, only opening up to her siblings. She had been lost Narnia had changed her, making her gentle, but when she was torn from her home, from Narnia, she was no longer gentle – she was crushed, silenced.

**  
Somewhere we live inside**

Susan pressed her fingers harder against the tree, searching out the feeble pulsation of life within. It was there – she knew it was. And so it was in Susan. Since returning to Narnia, she had become more herself. She began opening up. Susan, the Gentle Queen of Old, was still alive, deep inside herself.

**Dreaming about Providence  
And whether mice or men have second tries**

Leaning back against a boulder, Edmund stared out at the waterfall. It was a place he had found not long ago in the forest near Aslan's How. He had come here to get away from his siblings and just to think. He had much to think about. Seeing the White Witch was painful. But even worse was the look on Peter's face. He was believing her! She had been enchanting him. Edmund knew the feeling, he had lost the battle to that voice, and betrayed his family, along with all of Narnia. He had long since forgiven himself, or at least pretended he had, but he wasn't about to let anyone else in his family fall to her powers.

As he thought, Edmund realized that maybe this had been Aslan giving him another try. A second chance to face the White Witch and not fall to her enchantment.

**  
Maybe we've been living with our eyes half open  
Maybe we're bent and broken. Broken**

Unable to stop himself, Edmund remembered the feeling of being in the Witch's captivity. He could remember the cold and the fear piercing him as he lay huddled and chained on the floor of the dungeon. His helplessness as he thought of his family, and, however selfish it may be, himself. It would have been better if she'd broken his bones or something, because she had broken him, just in a worse way. He had laid there, his mind and soul broken. The pain was worse than any he could ever remember, and he had plenty of experience with physical injury. Never again did he want anyone, especially his family, to be so completely broken.

**We were meant to live for so much more**

Of their own accord, his mind flickered to the coronation at Cair Paravel. It shone golden in his memory. He could still feel the cold stone of the floor under his knees as he kneeled before Aslan. The words carried to him, even across all these years. "King Edmund, the Just." Edmund had felt such forgiveness in that title. Aslan knew that he would do anything to be a just ruler, and never give in to cruelty and unfairness. Of all his Narnian memories, he prized this one, and treasured it the most.

**  
Have we lost ourselves?**

Edmund didn't know what to do, how to be just. It was a terrifying feeling, not knowing what was right. He felt almost ass helpless as he had with the Witch. And lost. He was lost. More lost than he had been since he was huddled on the floor of the Witch's sleigh. He could remember the nightmares he would have while he was with her. In them, he would see all of his family, dead or dying. The same thoughts flashed through his head again.

**  
Somewhere we live inside  
Somewhere we live inside**

Strangely enough, these thoughts brought the answer. He would do whatever he could to make sure they were safe. That they, nor Narnia, would ever fall to the Telmarines. Edmund knew it would be difficult, after all, this wasn't just one person they were fighting against. It was a thousand year empire, a nation, a way of life. But he could do it. He _would_ do it. For his family. For Aslan, who had forgiven him. For Narnia, his only home.

**  
We were meant to live for so much more**

Lucy examined her dagger and cordial, weighing them in her hands. She could remember the day she got them from Father Christmas. She had treasured them ever since. They made her feel – _valiant_. Suddenly, she was no longer in a stone room at the How. She was kneeling on a stone floor, her cape and dress pooling around her. Mr. Tumnus placed a crown woven of silver leaves onto her curled hair. She grinned, hearing Aslan's voice ringing out clearly. "Queen Lucy, the Valiant."

Lucy sighed, returning to the present.

**  
Have we lost ourselves?**

She certainly didn't feel very valiant lately. She had done nothing on the raid. No, she had sat here in the How, worrying. It wasn't a question of bravery – no, Lucy had been on raids and fought alongside her brothers in the past. Lucy had refused to go, as she had thought that Aslan would not have wanted them to go. But all the same, she had felt useless, lost – not at all like a Valiant Queen should feel.

**  
Somewhere we live inside**

Lucy slipped her cordial, which was nearly half gone, back into its pouch and straightened up. She had just seen Peter walking past, deeper into the How. She could sense that he needed comfort. Maybe it wasn't valiant, but it was something Lucy could do to help. And she would do anything – be kind, valiant, comforting – for a sibling in need. 

**We want more than this world's got to offer**

The four Pevensies sat on the hard wooden bench, waiting for the train that would take them back to the dreary boarding schools they were forced to attend. They were all gazing dully in different directions. Grey. That was all that could be used to describe England. Grey. Nothing stood out. Nothing was important. It all blended together into a dull grey mix. Surely it hadn't been so bad before the war. But after they had come back from Narnia, the golden memories from the magical land had eclipsed they drab life of an English child. There was nothing England could offer them anymore. Not when all they could think about was their home. The home they had left for who knows how long? Grey. That's all it was.

**  
We want more than this world's got to offer**

Lucy looked up at the trees with a terribly sad expression. "They're so still," she said. The other three Pevensies nodded, knowing something was seriously wrong.

"They're trees, what do you expect?" asked Trumpkin. The Pevensies looked at him, taken aback. Surely the trees couldn't have been asleep for this long?

"They used to dance," was Lucy's reply. The use of past tense sent a pain through all their hearts. What had happened to their beloved Narnia? This was not the world they were used to. This was not the Narnia they loved and remembered. And they were determined to get that Narnia back.

**  
We want more than the wars of our fathers**

As Edmund looked out at the line of Telmarine soldiers approaching, he could not help but remember a similar advance, so many years ago. "Five, Six . . ." Peter counted softly next to him. Edmund shot a quick glance at his brother, and turned back to face the enemy. Rows of faceless, masked soldiers marched nearer. Edmund's memory soared thousands of years back, and Miraz's masked face morphed into the face of the White Witch.

**  
And everything inside screams for second life**

**We were meant to live for so much more**

Peter smiled, playfully throwing handfuls of snow at his siblings.

**  
Have we lost ourselves?**

Now Peter slipped through the snow, cringing. Where was Edmund? Could they save him?

**  
We were meant to live for so much more**

Susan rushed forward and heaved the heavy wolf off her brother. She pulled him up and embraced him, Lucy tackling them both.

**  
Have we lost ourselves?**

Now Susan watched helplessly as Peter battled Miraz, a wolf in his own right, though now there was no Aslan waiting, insuring Peter's safety.

**  
We were meant to live for so much more**

Edmund smiled as Susan embraced him warmly, no trace of accusation or even hesitation in her manner. "I'm glad you're safe," she whispered in his ear.

**  
Have we lost ourselves?**

Now Edmund stared, unable to do anything, as Susan dangled over the edge of the How, her grip on Trumpkin's hand slipping. "Please be safe," he whispered, praying.

**  
We were meant to live**

Lucy felt hot tears slide down her cheeks as she watched the White Witch plunge a knife into Aslan's flesh. Already the world felt a little colder.

**  
We were meant to live**

Now Lucy sprinted forward, jumping on the great Lion. She tackled him to the ground, hugging him fiercely, feeling the life in his whole being. He was meant to live, and so he would.


End file.
